The Driving Tempo of a Ticking Clock
by SolarRose29
Summary: "Cap, don't do that! Don't trick me into making some kind of promise. We're not going to die," Tony furiously asserted. "Sometimes there isn't a way out, Stark," Steve returned quietly.


**I don't own 'em. I just like to look at them. And play with them. And put them in situations like this. :)**

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><p>The little red light blinked cheerily, a clown's mocking laughter. Heart pushing a waterfall of blood around his shaking body, Steve stared at the bomb. Clicking digits into place, the timer efficiently counted out the last moments of his life. A seemingly innocuous box, the deadly bomb looked far more like a snobbish banker's briefcase than a device of mass destruction. Wires wove in and around the square like a work of art. Helpless when it came to such supposedly simple electronics as MP3 players, Steve could do little more than blink at the little box.<p>

"You going to stand there all day or are you actually going to do something about that?" Iron Man inquired from behind him.

Startling, Steve whirled around. "Stark!" he exclaimed.

"Don't be obvious," Tony instructed, flipping up the face mask of his suit.

"Thank goodness," Steve sighed in relief, moving away from the bomb and toward the billionaire. "I've dealt with bombs before but they never looked like that," he explained with a vague wave at the device.

"Oh please." Tony rolled his eyes. "Just cut the red wire."

Steve looked hesitant.

"It's what they do in all the movies," Tony assured him. "Now go." He pointed a metal finger at Steve.

Returning to the box, and trying not to look at the dwindling minutes left on the clock, Steve swept his eyes over it, searching for the miraculous red wire.

"Cap, we've got him." Clint's voice came over the communications line.

Steve never turned his eyes away from the box on the floor in front of him. "Are you all okay?"

"We're fine," Clint assured him. "Although I can't say the same for our crazy bomber dude. Nat got to him before I could," he explained, sounding disappointed.

Tony chuckled.

"He reminds me of you, Stark," the archer commented.

"Why's that?" Tony questioned, curious.

"He won't shut up," Clint quipped and Tony could hear the smirk he was making.

"What? Why would that make you think of me?" Tony protested. "Now, if you had said he was devilishly handsome, or incredibly rich, or unbelievably clever we could at least discuss it over drinks and a football game. Actually, I don't like football. Did you know that in England they call-"

"Shut up, Stark," Clint reminded, putting an end to the scientist's babbling.

"What's he saying?" Steve brought the conversation back on track, even as he slipped a knife out of its sheath in his boot. He hadn't found that red wire yet, but the timer was getting awfully low and he wanted to be prepared in order not to waste any more time.

"He says he's got another bomb in the area and that it's bigger than the others," Natasha informed them. "Cap, if he's telling the truth, we need to find that bomb right now. We can't let him-"

"Easy there, Spidey," Tony broke in. "Cap and I are all over it. We're looking right at it."

Steve checked all over the device for the correct wire. Then he hurriedly double-checked. And frantically re-checked. "Tony…." he warned.

"In fact, at this very moment Cap is going about disarming it," Tony continued.

"Tony," Steve called.

"Don't worry about it. We'll be with you in a second. Then we can all go home and order pizza or something," Tony planned out the rest of their evening.

"Tony!" Steve shouted, finally claiming the billionaire's attention.

"What?" He irritably turned his attention toward the solider.

"There's no red wire," Steve reported.

"What?!" Tony repeated in disbelief.

"I looked everywhere," Steve told him. "It doesn't have one. They're all black."

"But," Tony shook his head, "there's always a red wire."

"Maybe we can just cut all of them," Steve suggested, shifting the knife in his grip.

"Don't!" Tony yelled. "You'll set off some kind of fail-safe!" He rushed forward, only to stop abruptly a few feet away.

"A what?" Steve glanced up at him.

"A fail-safe. Bombers put them in there so that if the wrong wire is cut, the bomb will still go off. It's their sick way of making sure they win," Tony explained, even as his face creased in confusion and he tugged his limbs forward, only to have them refuse to move.

"Okay." Rising from his crouch, Steve flipped the knife lightly, catching the blade in his gloved palm and extending the handle to Tony. "I have no idea what I'm doing. I think you'd better take over."

"Gladly," Tony grunted, attention on his uncooperative suit.

Moments passed and Steve cleared his throat. "I don't mean to be rude, but there is a timer on the bomb."

"I'm trying!" Tony snapped.

Steve crossed the floor and stood before him. "What's wrong?"

"My suit. It won't-I'm trying-For some reason…" Tony trailed off, his mechanical instinct to diagnose the problem the only thing keeping him from panicking.

Eyes darting between the bomb behind them and the red and gold armor in front of him, Steve ran their situation through his mind over and over, struggling to find a solution.

"What the-?" Tony growled, frustration growing as his repeated attempts to move his body were met with failure.

"Can you-" Steve started but was interrupted when the Iron Man faceplate abruptly closed.

Rapidly reading through the information displayed on his screens, Tony demanded, "talk to me, Jarvis. What's going on? Why can't I move?"

"It is unclear," came his answer.

"What do you mean unclear?" Tony bit out. "Run the scans. Check the reactor."

"My scans are inconclusive," Jarvis stated.

"What? Why?" Tony was growing tired of those questions.

"External interference is causing my systems to perform at less than optimal levels," Jarvis apologized.

Tony paused. "External interference?"

"Yes, sir."

"Tony? Are you okay? What's wrong?" After so many minutes of silence, during which the clock spun down, Steve was almost to the point where he wanted to pry the pieces of armor apart just so he could listen to Tony's obnoxious, customary chatter instead.

The Iron Man mask lifted and Tony grinned at Steve. "Everything's peachy. No problems. Well, maybe a small problem. Turns out, that special little present," he nodded at the bomb, "which our villain of the week left for us, is emitting some kind of EMP, which has frozen my suit."

"You can't move?" Steve asked for clarification.

"Yes, I think we've established that," Tony impatiently observed.

"But you're alright? Even with the….?" Trailing off, Steve awkwardly gestured to his own chest.

Tony frowned. "My reactor is perfectly fine." He sniffed self-righteously.

"Good." Steve nodded.

They lapsed into a quiet before Steve split it with a deep breath. With a final glance at Tony, which was one part sympathy, the rest nervousness, he returned to kneeling beside the box. The red light was flashing merrily.

"What are you going to do?" Tony queried, all traces of humor absent from his voice.

"I don't know," Steve murmured.

Raising his eyes to the sky, Tony snorted. "Thanks for that. So much for the Man With The Plan."

"If you have any ideas, feel free to share them," Steve snapped angrily.

Swallowing down frustration, helplessness and growing panic, Tony remained silent.

"I'm guessing you haven't disarmed the bomb yet." Clint caused their communicators to come to life.

"How did you know?" Tony questioned suspiciously. "Do you have some kind of weird spy sixth sense that tells you these things?"

"Nope. It's just that I haven't heard from you in ten minutes. There's no way Tony Stark is that quiet when he has good news," Clint answered brightly. "Of course, there's no way Tony Stark is ever that quiet," he added cheekily.

"Very funny," Tony grimaced.

"Also, the mastermind here was giving this long, boring monologue about how no one but him could disarm the bomb and about how much destruction it's going to cause and he'll be remembered forever and blah, blah, blah."

"Is there a point to this story?" Tony tried to distract himself from the ants crawling under his skin as the paralysis eroded his confidence.

"I'm getting to it," Clint insisted. "Anyway, Nat got a little bored with his spiel and threatened him with a slow and painful death unless he told us how to turn off the bomb."

"So what's the answer?" Steve asked, already knowing that everyone crumbled beneath the wrath of the Black Widow.

"A bio-scanner," Clint stated.

Tony cursed.

"Meaning?" Steve fought to keep the growl out of his voice. It wasn't easy when the little numbers were spinning lower and lower before his very eyes and there was nothing he could do to stop them.

"Meaning we need the idiot himself. In the flesh. Right here," Tony retorted sharply. "There's probably some kind of retinal or fingerprint scanner on there that'll power it down."

"We're bringing him to you. Stand by." Clint signed off.

"Alright, this is good. We'll just chill here for a few minutes until the others get here with Mr. World Destruction." Tony kept his tone light, though his limbs were beginning to feel tingly after being held in such a rigid position for so long.

Steve's eyebrows knit together and his mind raced.

"You know what? I don't think I want pizza after all. How about Chinese? You ever have Chinese before?" Tony's mouth was moving because the rest of him couldn't.

"They'll never make it in time," Steve muttered, realization settling heavily in his ribcage.

A cold shiver chased dread up and down Tony's spine. "What did you say?"

"They're too far. Maybe if Thor were here, or if you could…" Steve trailed off, unwilling to make Tony feel bad about something he couldn't change.

"You doubt our favorite pair of ninja assassins?" Tony glared at Steve with denial shining brightly in his eyes.

"It's not about them," Steve softly countered.

"They may not have any special serum, but that doesn't mean they're not fast." Tony was grasping at straws. "Have you ever seen them run? They may be short but their little legs pump like they're two years old and you can't keep your eye on them because they're going so fast they're just a blur."

"Stark," Steve quietly interrupted. "Look at the timer."

A childish impulse to refuse overtook Tony. He didn't want to lift up the sheet and see the monster under the bed. If he couldn't see it, it couldn't see him-couldn't hurt him. But he was nothing if not a scientist and the rational side of his brain reminded him that the clock would continue counting down, whether he saw it do so or not. So he pulled his eyes to the little digits lying on the floor in front of him and watched in horror as they dwindled to less than five minutes. He raised his gaze and met Steve's.

Like a rock tossed into a lake, a curse word flew from Tony's mouth and dropped on Steve's shoulders. Sweat left slimy snail trails on Steve's forehead as he wracked his brain for an answer. Beneath the unmovable obstacle of his armor, Tony's muscles were clenching sporadically. Knowing it was useless but unable to keep himself from trying, he attempted to force his limbs into action. He only succeeded in wasting more precious time.

"This is ridiculous," he exclaimed. "There's got to be something we can do."

Deep in thought, Steve chewed his lip and didn't answer.

"Wait a minute." A light bulb went off in Tony's head. "Your shield! Vibranium absorbs vibrations. It's perfect! We're saved!" He grinned in relief.

Guilt and regret flooded Steve's face and his expression crumpled.

"Where is your shield?" Tony wondered aloud, noticing for the first time the absence of the iconic weapon.

"I lost it," Steve mumbled.

Tony blinked. Then he blinked again. "What?!" he shouted. "How is that even possible? There's no such thing as Captain America without his shield! You just had it! How could you lose it? You love that thing! You even sleep with it like it's some kind of teddy bear! And it's not creepy that I know that. Jarvis tells me things. So what I want to know is how you could have done such an irresponsible, impossible thing?!"

"Long story," Steve panted, adrenaline gushing in his veins. "Which we don't have time for."

He activated his communicator, while keeping an eye on the slightly panicking Stark.

"Barton, Romanoff, turn back now. Get as far away as you can," Steve calmly directed.

"What?" Clint questioned incredulously.

"But Cap-" Natasha started.

"Now!" Steve's voice was hard and allowed no room for argument. "And clear the area. Move everyone out. Hurry."

"Steve-" Natasha tried again.

"Alert Fury that we'll need clean up crews." Captain America was in control and no trace of doubt or hesitancy was left.

"Hold on," Tony cut in, fear seeping though his words. "Clean up crews? For what? I thought we were getting that guy in here to stop it."

"Stark, lower your faceplate." Steve's tone was steady even though his heart was pumping so fast it hurt.

"Why do I get the feeling I don't want to know why you want me to do that?" Tony stalled.

"You're a genius. I'm sure you'll figure it out," Steve murmured.

The red light sparkled and quickened its pace, dancing in and out of existence too rapidly to keep track of.

"Oh no." Tony's eyes widened. "Cap, whatever you're thinking, it's not a good idea."

"You don't know what I'm thinking," Steve responded, focused on the device.

"You've got that look."

"What look?"

"That look. The one where you're going to do something heroic even when it's going to be painful-" Tony stopped, frozen in shock. "No. No. No, not that. Cap, that's a terrible, terrible idea."

"Your suit should protect you from whatever's left of the blast," Steve pointed out rationally, fingers trembling under his gloves. "Put down your mask."

"Cap, get out of here," Tony demanded.

"I can't do that," Steve countered, focusing his attention on the explosive device.

"Come on, you're not seriously considering-" Tony raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

"If I don't, a lot of people are going to die," Steve snapped, whipping his head up to stare at his companion with burning eyes.

"You don't have to," Tony insisted. "You can still leave. What's your top speed? Twenty-five? Thirty? You're fast, Cap."

Steve firmly shook his head. "Even if I did, I wouldn't make it. There's no time."

"You'd at least have a chance," Tony claimed.

"This is me giving you a chance," Steve declared softly, clenching his fists closed.

A lump ballooned in Tony's throat, blocking the flood of words for which he was famous.

"You're sure you can't move?" Steve checked one more time.

"If I could, you really think I'd be letting you do something so damn stupid?" Tony growled.

"Try one more time," Steve suggested, sweat swimming in his spikes of blond hair.

Grinding his teeth, Tony strained against the very suit he'd made to protect himself as it became his prison.

"It won't budge," he yelped, frustrated anew.

With a grim nod, Steve acknowledged the fact. "It was worth a shot," he sighed in resignation.

Tony pursed his lips and swiveled his eyes upward, anger and fear bubbling in his stomach like a witch's brew. "So this is it then?" he spat.

Swallowing thickly, Steve slowly lowered himself to the ground, pausing on his knees. He hesitated and glanced at Tony. "Take care of the others, alright?"

"What?!" Snapping out of the contemplation of his own demise, Tony stared in shock.

"They need someone. I need you to be that someone." Steve was completely in earnest.

"No, no, no. Oh no. Cap, don't do that! Don't trick me into making some kind of promise. You're not going to die. I'm not going to die," Tony furiously asserted. "We'll figure something else out!"

"Stark, sometimes there isn't a way out." Steve sat back on his heels.

Tony wished he could move so he could punch the super soldier in the face for being so realistic. It was much easier to cling to the false hope of a miracle than to accept the inevitable.

"You've done so much for this team already. And I'm truly grateful." The tops of Steve's knuckles brushed the web of wires.

"Stop," Tony whispered.

"I know I'm asking a lot," Steve started.

"Stop," Tony repeated.

"But I believe you can do it. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, Stark." Steve kept speaking, giving voice to the weights on his chest, ignoring Tony's protests.

"Shut the hell up!" Tony yelled.

"Tony."

The use of his name forced the billionaire to clamp his mouth shut.

"The Avengers, and the rest of the world, need Iron Man," Steve insisted quietly.

"They need Captain America too," Tony shot back. The corner of his mouth twitched in a reflexive smirk. "After all, every hero needs a sidekick."

"You arrogant son of a gun." Steve bowed his head, shaking it fondly. When he raised it, his eyes were wet. "You'll do great. Save the world. It's what you do best." He managed a weak smile.

As the clock sunk to a single minute, an insistent beeping filled the space around them, pulsing to the beat of their frantic hearts. With a final breath, Steve threw himself over the box, curling his body around the device. Tony gasped out a curse.

"Put down your mask," Steve commanded, his words muffled as he tucked his head down to his chest, completing the protective circle he'd formed with his body.

"No," Tony stubbornly refused, as if his actions could change the course of the future.

"Do it!" Steve shouted, raising his head, even as his voice wobbled.

"No!"

"Lower your damn faceplate and that's an order!" Steve begged.

"I do not want to have to clean you out of my armor with a spatula, Rogers!" Tony raged.

The beeping increased in tempo and Steve uttered a wan laugh. "I don't think you have a say in the matter."

"But-"

"Jarvis, close the mask," Steve directed, returning his head to its earlier position.

"No, Jarvis, don't close the mask," Tony countered, desperate.

"Override alpha, six, nine, tango, bravo, seven, two."

As Steve methodically gave the correct sequence, the faceplate lowered, sealing Tony in cold metal and cutting him off from the soldier.

"No! Jarvis! Stop!" Tony cried. "Steve!"

Once the helmet was in place, a display appeared on the glass in front of Tony's eyes. It was the number of seconds left on the bomb's timer.

Five.

A minute tremor ran the length of Steve's body.

Four.

The hearts of the two men beat in tandem.

Three.

Impossibly fast, the beeping raced.

Two.

Tony cursed.

One.

Steve braced himself.

Then, there was nothing except silence and bright light. Tony gasped shallow breaths through an open mouth and shut his eyes.

"Sir."

Tony cracked an eye open. "Shut it, Jarvis. I'm in the middle of being exploded."

"But sir-"

"Any second now." Tony screwed his eyes closed.

"Sir!"

"Can't you leave me to get splattered by a stupidly heroic super soldier in peace?!" Tony growled.

"Allow me to assure you, sir, you will not be subjected to any splattering," Jarvis interjected.

"It's not funny to tease a dying man," Tony complained.

If Jarvis could have sighed, he would have. "Sir, I am not teasing."

Curiosity outweighing his instincts, Tony risked a peek at his HUD display. The first thing that he saw was a zero. He shrieked and shut his eyes. When nothing happened, he chanced another look. The zero was still there, but nothing else had changed. The world wasn't shattering around him.

"It would appear that the energy of the device is being affected as much by the suit as the suit is by it," Jarvis surmised.

"So…it's freezing me but I'm also freezing it?" Tony queried hesitantly, not wanting to give himself false hope, only to have it snatched away.

"I have no evidence to suggest otherwise," Jarvis informed him.

It was only the locked joints of the armor that upheld Tony as relief swept over him so strongly that his knees went weak. "That's good. That's better than good. That's…." An embarrassingly bubbly giggle tickled his throat and kidnapped the rest of his sentence.

When he finally wrestled his elation under control, he switched his focus to the soldier on the ground.

"Cap!" he jubilantly called.

"Stay back!" Steve threw a hand out in warning.

Tony laughed at the irony. He couldn't move and that was the reason they were both still alive, and would continue to be for a long time, if he had any say in the matter. "You're not going to be a firecracker today, Spangles."

Steve's body curled tighter around the device, anticipating the fatal blast.

"Hey, I'm talking to you. Yes, you in the tights." Tony snickered at the way Steve's head popped up like a turtle's out of its shell. Tony realized he was laughing a lot. Surviving a near-death experience tended to make him giddy. "I know you're not very good with all the science talk, so I'll keep this short. The bomb is interfering with my suit and my suit is returning the favor." As Steve continued to look bewildered, Tony elaborated, "it's not going to blow up. Look at the timer."

As obedient as a clueless puppy, Steve obligingly took note of the red zeros. His eyes snapped up and he stared at Tony in wonder. A grin slowly split his cheeks, lighting up his face.

"Yup," Tony affirmed smugly. "You get to live to sacrifice yourself some other day."

Tension melting out of his muscles, Steve sat up. "I'm used to surviving these kinds of things, but normally I suffer a serious injury before I do," he commented, panting slightly from the mixture of adrenaline, relief and disbelief.

Tony blinked. Steve did too. Then a hearty chuckle took him by surprise, bobbing out from between his exposed teeth. It was contagious. Lifting the faceplate off, Tony joined him in his fit of ecstasy. When the need to breathe overpowered their glee, Steve took the opportunity to wipe away the lines of sweat from his face.

"Don't…ever ..do that.. again," Tony managed to gasp out.

Leaning back, Steve shook his head. "I'm not planning on it."

"Good," Tony agreed. He rolled his lips uncomfortably. "Um.. about what you said…back there…"

Steve got to his feet, crossed the distance between them and laid a hand on Tony' shoulder. "I meant every word," he vowed, sincerity shining in his expression.

"Get off." Tony was helpless to shrug off the captain's hand. "You're making me blush." He tried to sound gruff. Inside, he was secretly pleased.

Steve laughed again and it was a beautiful sound. But he removed his hand, placing both fists on his hips. "This was fun. We should do it more often."

Tony's eyes popped out of his head. "Did Captain America just make a joke?"

"No," Steve answered, face serious.

Flabbergasted, Tony opened and closed his mouth several times before he was able to form words. Taking pity on the billionaire, Steve smirked. Tony saw the motion and frowned.

"You were joking, weren't you?" he accused.

"No, Tony, of course I want to go lie down on a bomb. I love doing that. We should make it a regular thing. How about once a week?"

Tony's head jerked back in astonishment. "Okay. This is weird. Shouldn't I be the one making light of the situation?"

"Well, you are a little..." Steve waved a hand in his direction, "stuck."

"What does that have to do with anything? I can still talk!" Tony protested.

"Then you can keep Jarvis company while I go give the others the all-clear." Steve clapped a hand on the shoulder blade of the Iron Man suit, gave Tony a wide grin and began walking away.

"What? Where are you going? Why do you have to go to them? Shouldn't they be coming here so we can finally get the freaking bomber to shut down his stupid bomb? Because it's still active. It's just paused right now. The energy exchange could become unstable at any moment. It can still explode. You're not going to leave me with an active bomb, are you? " Tony squeaked. "Cap? Cap? Steve!"


End file.
